


How to Heal When All You Can Do is Run

by astomnus



Series: Chaparral Runner [1]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mute Runner Five, Not Beta Read, Other, Will update tags, mullins was not a great place to live, nonlinear plot, not edited i just write and go, runner five has extreme identity issues, sundial is baby, trans runner five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astomnus/pseuds/astomnus
Summary: The question is; can you find happiness after all you know has been torn away from you?For Five, the answer is; yes. A thousand times, yes. The world after the apocalypse may be filled with dangers, and too many people have slipped through their grasp, unable to be saved, but they wouldn't trade this for the world. Literally.A bunch of random drabbles and bits of writing for my own personal headcanons. Possible spoilers up to S1Ep18 (on break until i figure out where the heck im going with this)edit; will probably rewrite this
Relationships: Jack Holden/Eugene Woods, Runner Five & Sam Yao, Runner Five/Sam Yao
Series: Chaparral Runner [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913338
Comments: 21
Kudos: 20





	1. Seasonal Depression

Five  _ hated  _ winter.

Before the world went to shit, it was manageable. Finals always occupied his brain up until December, and then he’d be distracted from how cold and dark the world got by bright festive lights and good food. And then, in January, school would start up again. There wasn’t enough time to sit and realize how depressed one got during winter.

But now there was no school. There were very few things Five could do to pass the time, and nearly everything relied on there being plenty of sunlight. Other sources of light were very few and very rare, and Five always felt like he was being selfish when he asked for a flashlight so he could work on their projects late at night when he couldn’t sleep. There were other people who might need it more.

It was becoming more and more difficult to convince himself that he was worth it.

So, he did what he did back in Mullins. He disappeared. Took day-long naps in hard-to-find corners of the Township. He  _ knew  _ he should be running, knew that was the only reason he had been allowed to stay in Abel for as long as he had, but he couldn’t force himself to do it. 

He had done maybe two runs this December, as opposed to the dozens in September, when the helicopter had gone down and he had been so generously allowed to stay in Abel. He had even been given a new, fancy name. But he had done nothing in return for this privilege. He could feel his time here running out. So, he hid.

Once or twice, Sam or Dr. Myers had spotted Five from across the Township, pace quickening as they walked towards him. He was ashamed to admit it, but each time he ran, ducking back into a storage closet or clambering onto a roof to avoid their questioning stares, or the fact that they were surely about to kick him out for freeloading. 

He  _ knew  _ he could still run, he just needed time! Time to drag himself out of this spiral, to prove that he was still worth the food and clothing and water. He just… he just didn’t want to let them down.

His bed in the Runner’s Barracks went untouched for weeks.

They bolted upright, knocking their head on the low shelf above them. They fell back onto the nest of blankets they had made themselves in this small closet, groaning in pain. Gentle fingers pressed on the sore spot on their head, sure it was going to bruise.

Forcing themselves to take deep, calm breaths, they pushed their nightmare out of their head. Their skin was clammy and cold, and their eyes burned with tears yet unshed. They grabbed at bare skin, pressing down in a desperate attempt to ground themselves to the present. It wasn’t working. The remnants of the nightmare returned again and again, nipping at their heels like the guard dogs at Mullins did.

After what seemed like a lifetime they sighed, pulling themselves out of their makeshift bed, pulling open the door. They didn’t know where they were going, they just needed to move, to stop thinking, to run themselves ragged so they’d just stop  _ thinking  _ for  _ once in their life. _

They blinked, and suddenly they were at the small training ring some of the Runners had set up earlier in the season. Five had only run on it themselves once or twice now, and certainly never in the dead of night, but they began stretching anyway. And then they were off, racing down the track as if pursued by zombies.

Breath panting, heart racing, they lost themselves to the motion of running. There was something strangely intimate about it, bare feet pounding against the worn dirt track. Their focus narrowed, until all there was was  _ motion. _

When they finally slowed, gasping for air, they felt immeasurably better.

They turned to head back to the storage closet, to attempt to put themselves in a self-induced coma once again, but a sleepy and bewildered voice stopped him.

“Five? Is that you?”

Too exhausted to flinch, Five looked up to see Sam jogging towards them. They stood stock-still, even as a part of their brain shrieked  _ this is it! It’s all over and you have to try and navigate the zombie-ridden streets on your own now. _

Sam wouldn’t do that, they tried to convince themselves. Sam was nice. He guided Five out of harm’s way, and his voice kept them company on the otherwise lonely runs.

Five watched as Sam drew up short, visible bags under his eyes but an elated grin on his face. “Five! Where have you been! I’ve been worried sick…” He trailed off, eyes searching Five’s own. “Are you alright?” He asked, softer now, and Five’s frayed nerves thanked him for it.

“Nightmare,” Five signed, fingers feeling clumsy. They were certain they tripped up over it, still unused to signing, but Sam nodded anyway. Feeling slightly emboldened, Five continued, “Came to run it out.”

“Do you want to come back with me to the comms shack?” Sam asked, voice quiet. “I’ve got tea and hot cocoa, and I might have a couple of snacks if you’re hungry.”

Five nodded, trailing after Sam when he grinned and gestured for them to follow. Five felt numb, like everything was both shockingly real and, at the same time, just an illusion. 

Oh, how Five loved running. But even the best runners tire.

The comms shack looked the same as it always had. Clutter and weird trinkets filled every available surface, containers of marmite and sweets mixed among the scraps of metal and bits of wires. Five even recognized a couple of them as stuff they had found on their runs. They picked one up— a weird little ceramic owl with aquamarine bejeweled eyes that they really should  _ not  _ have taken but did anyway— and sank down on the little cot.

True to his word, Sam started a kettle on the tiny mini-stove. He easily produced a box of assorted tea-bags and a single packet of instant hot chocolate, holding them up for Five’s inspection. They pointed to the hot chocolate and Sam nodded.

Five stared at the pattern in the soft, knit blanket on Sam’s bed, fingers idly tracing the designs carved into the owl. Something bumped against their leg and they flinched, glancing up to see Sam offering a chipped mug full of hot cocoa, a soft smile on his face.

Hesitantly, Five accepted it, holding the mug close to their body and taking small, delicate sips from it.

The comms shack was filled with comfortable silence. Sam spun back and forth idly in his chair as he drank his own tea, while Five elected to rub their fingers against the knit texture of the blanket.

Finally Sam spoke up, still staring down at the dark blue carpet. “I- uh. We’ve… We’ve noticed that you’re not… using your bunk anymore. Is there something wrong with it? I don’t know how soon we’d be able to fix it, since it’s the dead of winter and not as many runners are going out, but, uh, we might be able to move you somewhere?”

For a moment, all Five could do was stare at Sam in bewilderment. They started to sign something, then stopped, not for the last time cursing the fact that they weren't learning sign  _ fast  _ enough. They finally settled with, “Got sad. Hid. Sorry.”

“You… what? You got… Five, do you have seasonal depression? Is that why you disappeared?” At Five’s hesitant nod, Sam’s expression grew more frantic. “Five, what have you been doing? Have you been eating?”

Five shrugged, their heart sinking. “Sleeping. Eating little. Haven’t run.”

Sam blinked at Five, who could see the gears in his head turning. “You… haven’t run? What does that have to do with…” It clicked, and Sam sank back into his chair, voice quieter, now. “Five, what happens when you don’t run?”

Five’s heart stopped, as they let the words sink in.  _ What happens when you don’t run?  _ “Please,” they signed, “Please don’t make me leave. I can… I can…” They searched their mind for the sign, digging their nails into the skin of their thigh when they realized they didn’t  _ know  _ it yet. “I won’t use supplies. I can run in the spring again. Just don’t make me leave.”

“Five, Five look at me.” 

They did, forcing deep, shuddering breaths into their lungs. 

“We’re not going to kick you out. It’s alright— Five, listen to me, please,” Sam set his mug on the table, sitting next to the bed to gather Five’s hands up in his own. “Five, I wouldn’t lie to you. It’s me, right? Just breathe. Just breathe.”

Five nodded, squeezing Sam’s hands like a lifeline, struggling to turn the sobs into something more manageable.  _ This is so embarrassing,  _ they thought, somehow strangely detached.  _ I can’t wait to go back to sleep. _

When Five’s breathing finally evened out, Sam ventured, “At Mullins, if you didn’t pull your weight… they kicked you out, didn’t they?” 

They nodded, expecting Sam to pull away now that their episode was over. Instead, he clutched their hands tighter, giving Five a comforting squeeze. “Every time I hear more about Mullins, the less I like them,” He muttered, forcing a surprised laugh out of Five.

“Five, you’re safe here. We’re not going to kick out one of our best runners.” Sam rubbed his thumb in mesmerising circles against Five’s hands, and they lost themselves in the sensation. “And you don’t have to  _ starve  _ yourself just because you haven’t run recently, alright?”

Eyes lowering, Five nodded. Even though they had only just woken up, they felt utterly, bone-achingly  _ exhausted.  _

“Get some sleep, Five.” Sam’s smile was soft. Five would do anything for that smile. “We'll get some food in you in the morning. And… I'll explain what happened, alright? Everyone was pretty worried.”

Five sank into the bed, curling up much like a dog might. Sam let go of their hands to move Five’s abandoned mug, and the loss almost hurt. A thought occurred to Five, suddenly, and they signed, “Where will you sleep?”

“I'm gonna stay up, actually. There's some stuff I want to go over.” Sam settled back onto his seat. “Don't worry about me, alright? Get some sleep.”

Five's eyes drifted shut as the sound of computer keys clacking filled the comms shack.

For the first time this winter, they felt warm.


	2. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of the first month after Five became the new runner at Abel.

Their head hurt and they had barely even had a chance to untangle themselves from their parachute before they had started to run. They could still hear the zombies behind them— what had that nice radio man said? There were at least thirty? They didn’t know, and they  _ really  _ didn’t want to turn around and check.

They were so,  _ so  _ glad they had ripped the radio out of the helicopter and snatched their bag up before they had started to run.

Without breaking stride, they shoved the last of the parachute strings off of themselves, finally tuning back into what the man and the woman on the radio was saying.

“...You should be able to see the Robinson hospital now - one of the buildings, Gryphon Tower, it’s the tallest in the abandoned city, and if you can’t find anything… we might not be able to let you in when you get here.”

Now  _ that  _ was familiar. Orders. They could take orders. They readjusted their course, doing their best to ignore the burning in their throat and the way their heart felt like it would explode. The township wouldn’t let them in if they didn’t have anything valuable. They had to  _ prove  _ themselves, and they would. Just like they’d always had to.

They snaked their way to the back of the hospital, quietly opening a staff only entrance. Their footsteps echoed hollowly through the empty hallways, and they slowed, focusing more on being silent than going fast.

By the time they found the stairwell and managed to get up to the second floor, the nice radio man’s voice came over the radio again. “Okay, okay… Man, that’s great, you’re making good time. No broken legs, I guess.” He laughed, and their heart sped up a tad. They tried to ignore how their face flushed.

“Hey, uh, listen… I’m gonna call you Runner Five.” Their breath stuttered and the runner paused, hands hovering over a package of bandages before shoving them in their bag. “Um, just 'cause… well, I don’t know your name, and we just lost a runner, in that same hospital you’re running through now. She was so fast, really funny, and clever. Me and her, we sort of…” The man’s voice broke and he sighed, going silent for a brief moment. “She was amazing. But hey! You could be our new Runner Five! If you make it back alive…”

Their eyes hardened, and they gripped the painkillers in their hand more firmly.  _ Oh, I will be coming back, Mr. Radio Man. I will come back if I have to fucking crawl through hell for it. _

\---

“Alright, Five. Open your mouth.”

They did, letting Dr. Myers shove a wooden stick into their mouth, peering in with a pocket flashlight. She clicked it off, withdrawing the stick again and handing a pad of paper and a pen to Five.

“There’s been no harm to your vocal cords. Nothing old, nothing new caused by the crash. There shouldn’t be any reason for your muteness… how long have you been mute?”

They scribbled down a quick message.  _ Off and on for most of my life, went completely silent around college. _

“And that was…?”

_ A year ago, about. _

“Alright.” She finished marking something down in her notes, making a pleasant humming noise. “You’re in pretty good health, all things considered. A little malnutrition, mild dehydration, and a vitamin D deficiency, but you’re otherwise as healthy as a horse. Is there anything else you need?”

Five tapped the paper in thought, before brightening up and quickly writing down another message.  _ Testosterone, if you have any on hand. _

Dr. Myers frowned, staring at the paper in confusion. “Testosterone? Why… oh.” She glanced at Five’s face, which had gone blank. “Have you taken it before?”

They nodded.  _ In college. Mullins didn’t have it. _

“Alright,” Myers made another note. “We’ll have to start you off at a low dosage again to get your body used to it, but I should have a couple vials of it somewhere around here. If not, we’ll make it a priority for our runners.”

Five blinked, eyes widening in surprise.  _ Thank you. _

“Don’t worry about it. Just make sure to do your job. We’ll see if we can get you some sign language lessons too, I believe Sam might know a little, but I bet I can find a couple of other residents that know it.”

They nodded, head dipping sharply. Of course. They wouldn’t let Abel down.

\---

“You called?” Five signed, fingers clumsy and unpracticed as they hung by the entrance of the comms shack.

“Hey Five!” Sam glanced up almost as soon as they stepped foot into the building, smile blinding-bright. “I wanted to go over something with you, if that’s alright.”

They hesitated, then nodded, stepping inside of the comms shack. They’d never actually step foot into this building before, though the other runners and Dr. Myers had pointed it out to them. 

If they could describe the decor in two words, it would be; organized chaos.

The building was very small, but very cozy. A small cot was nestled in the back, filled with soft blankets and pillows. An old plastic table supported what had to be dozens of computers and monitors, displaying images and sensors of the surrounding landscape. Wires trailed lazily off of every available surface. And almost everywhere Five looked they could see little trinkets hidden in the mess. An old marmite jar filled with marbles, broken CDs strung up so that it reflected the light, scraps of paper with unfamiliar handwriting and little doodles covering the sheets.

In short, Five  _ really  _ liked the comms shack. They wanted nothing more than to burrow into the blanket nest on the cot and to never wake up.

Instead, they sat on the floor.

“So, uh, there’s been a bit of a problem…”

Five’s face blanched.  _ Oh. Oh no, they’re sending me back to Mullins, and they’re going to ask for all my stuff back— _

“Hey! Hey, Five, calm down, it’s nothing bad. Shouldn’t have opened with that…” Sam coughed awkwardly. “I’m sure that you’ve noticed already that we don’t exactly have a lot of  _ structure  _ here at Abel, but, uh, there are a couple rules our runners have. And one of them is that you have to be able to communicate with me, and, well…”

“I can’t speak,” Five finished for him.  _ That  _ sign, at least, was very familiar to them by now.

“Right. And while there’s cameras set up around Abel, you’re probably not going to always be close enough to one to sign. So… we’re going to need to come up with some way to chat. Got any ideas? I’m stumped.”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Sam wanted… their advice? They tried to ignore how their heart fluttered.

Text to speech was the first thing to come to their mind, but they just as quickly shook the idea away. Too slow, too obnoxious, and they could barely even understand that electronic voice. They didn’t want to rely on it if anything serious happened.

Some kind of code then? No cameras, so sound based… Could the headsets pick up tapping? They waved to get Sam’s attention, then pointed for a piece of mostly empty paper.

Sam looked confused for half a second, before he brightened and handed it to Five with a pen.

_ Can the headsets pick up tapping? _ They wrote, turning the paper over to show Sam.

“Can they… oh, uh, possibly? Maybe if it was loud enough… do you think a tapped code might work? The whole ‘two taps for yes, one for no’ can get a little… complicated… if you’re doing it on the run…”

At that, Five shot up, eyes shining. They  _ knew  _ what would work! And if Sam was a radio operator, he’d probably know it just as well as they did! Finally, those long evenings of studying something  _ other  _ than their homework was going to pay off. 

They frantically searched through the bookshelves, eyes frantically scanning the titles. They ignored Sam’s surprised yelp. He  _ had  _ to… there! Five yanked the book out, flipping through the pages until they landed on one he was looking for, flipping it around to show Sam.

Sam’s eyes lit up as he realized what he was looking at. “Five, you’re a genius!”

The title on the page read;  _ International Morse Code. _

\---

“Five! Put the chocolate down, we already have more than enough. Save your pack space for something different.”

Janine’s voice made Five jump. He didn’t particularly  _ like  _ when other people were looking over him. Sam was the only exception. Sam would never steer him wrong.

He glanced around for the camera that was sure to be watching them, wrinkling his nose. He spotted it— right above the wine aisle, peering down at him like a giant, electronic eye. He methodically unwrapped the chocolate bar wrapper in his hand, taking a giant bite out of it, and shoved the entire shelf of chocolate into his bag, glaring at the camera the entire time.

Janine’s gasp of shock and Sam’s unbridled laughter was like music to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay not gonna lie half of these are daydreams ive had during my runs because who doesn't imagine their five reacting to stuff while on runs? 
> 
> also, i don't know if it's easy to tell or not but my five has a lot of self-confidence issues. they were a lot better in high school and in college (though "a lot better" is still not that great) but mullins kinda destroyed any self-confidence they had. they don't really care too much about names, so even after their id was found they still went mostly by five. also, they refer to themselves mostly with he/him pronouns and are very much dysphoric, but they also really like they/them so... uh. yeah!


	3. Five Gets an Emotional Support Animal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright i wasn't planning on there being a dog but five appeared in my room last night and held me at gunpoint to write this, and, well, what's a guy supposed to do? i usually go on runs with my own dog, so it seemed fitting that my runner five would also have a furry companion. also, do you know how many times i've had to check and recheck the zombies run wiki? that thing is a lifesaver. even if im getting a ton of spoilers (im still on season one. whoops.) the runner five playlist on spotify is full of absolute bangers too, and if i pump out three more chapters you know who to blame.
> 
> ...also, i drew some art of my five, if anyone's interested in seeing them! it's at the end of the chapter.
> 
> thank you so much for reading!
> 
> \----

The empty road stretched for miles before them, and all they could hear was the drumming of their own footsteps and the whistling of the wind.

And, of course, the ever-present voice of Sam in their right ear. Right now, it was silent. Sam had excused himself minutes prior, probably to grab a quick snack or to talk to one of the many visitors he got. Like always, he apologized profusely before going silent, but Five didn't mind. They liked the silence, liked how they could lose themselves to the very action of running. Out here, they didn't have to think. Just run. 

Today, though, was different.

They experimentally tapped the headset a couple of times, just to see if Sam had returned yet. When they didn't get a response, they took a deep breath and did something that would _definitely_ get them in trouble. If Sam found out. _If._ With one smooth motion, Five flicked his headset off and veered sharply off the path, heading directly for a small copse of trees hidden beneath the swell of hills. Taking a deep breath, they whistled once, long and drawn out. The noise echoed briefly, then faded into silence.

A golden-brown shape detached itself from the forest, staring at Five for a long moment. Then it bolted towards them, barking ferociously. Five scarcely had time to slow down before it was on top of them, knocking Five to the ground.

They laughed, desperately attempting to push the dog off of them before it got too excited, and finding that they were having very little luck. "Sundial," they whispered hoarsely, trying to ignore the impeding feeling of doom that happened whenever they spoke out loud. "Sundial, Sundial get _off_ of me—"

Five finally managed to shove Sundial off of them, sitting in the overgrown grass in an attempt to catch their breath. Oblivious, Sundial pranced around them, before darting in to shove her cold, wet nose into Five's neck, making them squeal.

Sam and the other Runners probably thought they were insane, taking this path every other day. But— they shoved Sundial away again as she lunged for their face— they had an excuse! And it wasn't just that some of their precious food storage was going to a stray dog they had run into one day. One that would likely never even be allowed near Abel, if they were anywhere near as strict about pets as Mullins was. 

No, they were coming here because the rolling hills and hidden trees offered a kind of privacy Five hadn't had since the apocalypse started. Here, far away from any living person, they were trying to teach themselves how to _speak_ again.

Sundial barked sharply, breaking Five out of their thoughts.

"R-right," they murmured softly, twisting their bag around to rummage inside it, pulling out an old tupperware container. Popping it open revealed two tortilla wraps, leftovers from last night's dinner. They offered one to Sundial, who swallowed it in one gulp, and bit into their own. 

It was peaceful here. Five leaned back, resting on their bag. Sundial curled up besides Five, who gently ran their fingers through her fur. At one time, her fur was likely silky soft, a gorgeous auburn color. But now it was matted and tangled, coated in burrs and mud. They sighed, carefully pulling out burrs and throwing them into the wind. "At- at least you didn't get, uh. At least you didn't run into a crawler this-this time," They half-heartedly laughed, shuddering at the memory. Now _that_ had been terrifying. Sundial's fur covered in half-rotten blood, a detached hand in her mouth... Five didn't know _how_ they had avoided getting zombie on their own clothes. 

They sighed, leaning back to stare at the cloudless sky. The constant rain and snow had finally let up a couple of weeks ago, and Five was so, _so_ glad that the worst of winter was behind them. They watched as the sun sank slowly towards the horizon, feeling warm and fuzzy and only slightly tired from their run.

Their run.

They were a Runner.

Oh, _fuck._

Frantically, their hands flew towards their headset, fumbling around until they had turned the headset on again. Crackling static filled their ears and they winced, fighting the urge to rip the headset off again. Then Sam's voice came through, loud, clear, and _terrified._

"Five? Five, come in, can you hear me? Five— oh, I _knew_ I shouldn't have left the comms for this long! Five, come in, can you—"

Five opened their mouth to reply, but the words died in their throat and all that came out was a cough. Sundial stared up at them with big eyes, nudging Five's hand until they started petting her again.

"Five! Oh, thank goodness, I thought... Are you injured?"

They tapped the headset once. _No._ Then they hesitated, before they began tapping again. _S.O.R.R.Y_

"It's... it's alright, Five. Just start heading back now." Sam's voice trembled, and Five's stomach dropped. They hadn't... they hadn't _meant_ to worry Sam, they just wanted... They clenched their hands. They just wanted to be able to talk again, to actually chat with Sam without relying on such roundabout ways of communication. They wanted to tell Sam how much his words meant to them, wanted to repay him for the words he had said that one night, when Five was running for their life, running back home to _him._

When had Sam's voice become home?

They stood to leave, to run back to Abel as fast as their legs could take them, but a pitiful whine drew them short. Sundial stared up at them with big eyes, getting up to trot after them and nose their hand. Five hesitated, hand halfway to their headset. Abel wasn't Mullins. _Abel wasn't Mullins._ They weren't strict. They didn't care if Five fell asleep in storage closets, or if they climbed onto the roof of the comms shack on a dare. 

Before they lost nerve, they tapped another message into the microphone. _D.O.G._

There was a rustling on the other end of the radio. "...Dog? Five, what... oh. Oh. Did you find a dog?"

They tapped twice. _Yes._ Then; _K.E.E.P._

Sam inhaled sharply, then half-whispered, "Five. Five, if you're telling me you can bring home a _dog,_ there is absolutely no situation where I'm going to say no. Although..." He trailed off. When he spoke again, Five could just imagine the grin on his face. "Five, I need you to do something for me, alright? I need you to take off your shirt and put it on the dog."

Five frowned, pulling at their tanktop that proudly displayed their runner's number. _W.H.Y._

"We don't want the snipers to mistake your dog for one chasing you." 

Ah. Alright. Five quickly shed their top, gently coaxing Sundial into it. It only took a few minutes and minimal convincing. She wagged her tail, the number on her back proudly displaying Five's number. They tapped on the headset three times, signalling that they were done.

"Okay. Grab your bag. You have to run as fast as you can towards Abel. If you go fast enough, no one will have enough time to react. Then we can figure out to convince Janine that we need a dog after it's already inside. Sound good?"

_Yes._ They whistled for Sundial, who perked up, then turned to run back towards the road.

\--

As soon as they spotted the Township, they willed their tired legs faster. Sundial raced alongside them, easily keeping time. If they could convince Janine to let them keep a dog... a _dog..._ Sundial would be very useful on runs. Subconsciously, they measured Sundial's frame with their eyes. They probably had some extra fabric somewhere— maybe that extra large overcoat they found that no one particularly wanted? It wouldn't be too hard to tear it up to make a harness, complete with pouches on the side for extra supplies. _God,_ that would be so useful. 

They could hear the surprised shouts of the guards at the top of the tower before they could see them. As they neared the defense tower, a familiar face appeared at the top of the tower, peering down. "Five! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Five waved cheerfully, still going full-speed towards the gate. They could distantly hear Sam yelling to raise the gates.

They skidded to a stop inside the township, meeting Sam's grin with their own, wild one. Sundial pressed her head into their hand and in the distance, they could hear Janine shouting. Guilt-fear prickled up their spine, but they shoved it aside in favor of basking in Sam's warm smile. They could deal with the consequences later.

"What's her name?" Sam asked, kneeling over to let Sundial sniff his hand. 

Five frowned. That... that was going to be a problem. They quickly pieced together words that they thought _might_ work, then signed them.

"Sun-time? ...Noon?" He blinked in confusion, trying to decipher Five's hand movements. 

They groaned, then brightened suddenly, rummaging around in their cargo shorts for... aha! They pulled out their phone, once used to browse the internet, now only used for music and occasionally, photos. They flicked through their song database until they found the one they were looking for, then flipped their phone over to show Sam.

"Sundial?" At Five's nod, Sam's smile returned. "Hi, Sundial!" He crooned, delicately running his fingers through her fur, flicking burrs to the ground. "You need a bath, don't you? Yeah, you do. How long have you been out there?" Sam's voice dropped to a gentle croon, and Five tried to ignore the shiver than ran through their spine. "I bet we can steal some food from the kitchens for you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Five!" A shout drew them out of their thoughts and they wheeled around. Janine was storming towards the trio, looking less than pleased. "When were you going to tell us that you were bringing along a companion? We barely have enough food to feed the humans here, let alone a _dog!"_

Five nodded, heart racing. "Good luck explaining," They quickly signed to Sam, then spun around and made a break for it.

"Five! You can't just— hi, Janine. Look, I can explain..."

\----


	4. Runner Five's Recipes

_Alright. Since apparently not a lot of people regularly cooked before the whole end of the world deal, and the fact that I can still remember some recipes (and took a lot of photos of them with my phone, which miraculously has survived this long) I've been asked to please write some down so I can add them to the cycle of meals. There's only so many times you can eat roast squirrel, or soup, without going completely insane._

_These all should work. I've been testing them out for a while, and they all should be edible. I've also added notes to make them easier to follow._

_-Five._

**Candied Orange Peels**

Super easy to make and a nice treat. Commercial-made candy may be in short supply, but this is a good substitute! ...Might be able to make it with lemon peels too, though I haven't tried that yet. I don't know about other fruits. It's great to bring on runs, since it lasts a long time and offers a good boost. Also a good source of vitamin C! Scurvy is not a fun thing to have during the zombie apocalypse. 

Ingredients;

\- Orange peels. Lots. Maybe, uh... 2 - 3 cups?  
\- Water. 4 cups or so.  
\- Sugar. Same amount as the water.

Step 1; Spend half an hour arguing with Janine that this is a good use of sugar. Yes, I'm very aware that sugar is in short supply. But if we don't use it all eventually, it's going to go bad. This is a good use of resources. 

Step 2; Steal the sugar anyway.

Step 3; Make sure that most of the white bits of the peel are cut off. Doesn't have to be exact. Cut into strips.

Step 4; Boil the water. Once it's boiling, add the orange peels and cook for about fifteen minutes. Take out the orange peels using a slotted spoon (for the love of all do NOT use your hands! I tried it and Dr. Myers was not happy with me)

Step 5; Add sugar into boiling water and let it dissolve. Add back in the peels and let it simmer for about 45 minutes, until the peel is very soft. Take peels out again and pour out water (or use it as syrup! It's very sweet and tasty) Toss peels and 1 more cup of sugar together until the peels are coated.

Step 6; Let peels dry on a paper towel/parchment paper/tin foil for 1/2 days. Do your best to guard it from people who think no one's watching. Cry when you realize it's not working. Give up, shove as many as you can into your pockets, and run. Give some to Molly because you have a soft spot for kids.

**Honey Sweetened Peanut Butter Cookies**

Great for when you get in trouble for stealing everyone's sugar rations to make orange peel candy! Sweet, filling, and has lots of protein. Tastes surprisingly a lot like normal peanut butter cookies.

Ingredients (makes around 2 and a half dozen cookies);

\- 1 cup peanut butter  
\- 1 cup honey  
\- 1 large egg  
\- 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract  
\- 1/2 tsp salt (Yes, salt is important. No, do not leave this out. It will not taste right.)  
\- 1/2 tsp baking soda  
\- 2 cups flour

Step 1; Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, or 176 degrees Celsius (because that's how Britain works! Do NOT set the oven to 350 degrees Celsius or you _will_ burn the cookies! And possibly start a fire!) Line a baking sheet with parchment, or coat it in oil/butter.

Step 2; Mix honey and peanut butter together in a large bowl. Then, when it's well combined, stir in eggs and vanilla.

Step 3; Add salt, baking soda, and flour and mix until it forms a dough. Don't eat all the raw dough. Do not let Sam eat all the raw dough. Or Jack and Eugene. Actually, just assume most of the Township will magically be summoned as soon as you start baking and seal yourself in the kitchen until it's all been finished.

Step 4; Shape dough into small balls, place on sheet. Use a fork to press them down and to make the iconic cross pattern in the cookies. Bake 10-12 minutes, remove from oven and place on a cooling rack. Give up when the Township swarms them and they're all gone in 12 seconds.

**Potato Soup**

Alright, I know I just said that soup is boring and overdone, but this stuff is _really_ good. Like, crazy good. Takes a hell of a long time to make though, back at home it used to take me upwards of three hours to prep and cook everything. Recruiting one or two other people cuts the time by a lot. You can also mess with the ingredients a lot. This is just stuff I normally use.

This recipe feeds 4 - 8 people. Depends on your appetite. And whether you want leftovers.

Ingredients;

\- A pound of bacon, or a similarly fatty meat. Pork might work? Though I haven't tried it. If you don't have any meat or you're vegetarian/vegan, butter or oil should work.  
\- Veggies! 2 - 3 cups should be good. I recommend carrots and celery, though any soup veggies should be good. Make sure they're diced.  
\- A whole diced onion.   
\- 3 cloves garlic. Diced. Make sure the green sprout in the middle is gone or it's gonna taste nasty  
\- 8 potatoes.   
\- An entire container of broth. Chicken is best, though veggie works fine.  
\- 1/4 cup flour  
\- 3 tablespoons butter  
\- 1 cup heavy cream (or 1/4 cup butter and 3/4 cup milk)  
\- Cheese, if you can find some.

Step 1; Gather all the ingredients. Convert Runners to your cause. Seriously, finding the butter and milk during an apocalypse is rough. If worse comes to worse, substitute for margarine/non dairy milk. Once they're all gathered, convince someone to help you chop things up. Especially the onion. Make someone else do that.

Step 2; Get the biggest pot you have. I promise you're going to need it. Fry the meat until it's nice and crispy. Remove meat, drain grease until there's about 1/4 cup remaining (that's why you need it to be fatty). Fry the onions, then the veggies, then the garlic for about 5 minutes, until the onions are nice and transparent. Then add potatoes and saute for another 3-4 minutes.

Step 3; Add the broth into the veggie pot. If the broth doesn't cover the potatoes all the way, add water until it does. Let it simmer until the potatoes are soft.

Step 4; Mix melted butter and flour in a bowl, then add heavy cream and whisk. Add to soup.

Step 5; Mash the soup with a potato masher to make the potatoes smaller and the soup creamier. Ignore passive aggressive remarks asking when dinner will be done. Add spices, whatever you can get. Back when I used to have a giant spice rack, I used paprika, coriander, baharat, and chili powder. Rosemary is also good. If someone tries to add cilantro, beat them with your wooden spoon. Add salt and pepper too, as well as meat and cheese if you have it.

Step 6; Finally, three hours later, you're done. Fall into a chair and moan/sign about your tired legs to anyone who will listen. Also, eat your soup while it's still warm. Add extra meat + cheese, sour cream is also good too if you can find any. If leftovers are too thick, just add more milk before reheating.

**Homemade Tortillas**

Tortillas are so, so, _so_ useful. You can make wraps with them, which are an absolute godsend for when you're on runs. You can make burritos with leftover roast squirrel and the three thousand cans of beans in storage. You can coat them in cinnamon and sugar and pan fry them until they're nice and crispy. You can make tortilla chips with them. You can even attempt to make lumpia using these as wrappers, but as I recently discovered, it's _very_ difficult to make them thin enough for the proper crunch. The best part? Unlike bread, tortillas don't get soggy, don't rip as easy, and store for much longer. Make as many of these as you can. This recipe only makes about 8, or 16 if you're making them really small.

Ingredients;

\- 2 cups all purpose flour  
\- 1/2 teaspoon salt  
\- 3/4 cup water  
\- 3 tablespoons oil. Olive oil is preferred. Butter, lard, shortening, and coconut oil also work.

Step 1; Grab a large bowl. Combine flour and salt. Please, for the love of all, do not forget the salt. Stir in water and oil. Flour the counter or a cutting board and knead the dough 10-12 times, adding a little bit of water or flour if necessary. Make absolutely sure not to over-knead it. Put it back in the bowl and drape a damp cloth over it.

Step 2; Divide the dough into eight (or sixteen) portions. Lightly flour the counter or cutting board and roll them out into they're vaguely circular and thin.

Step 3; Lightly grease a pan, skillet, or other such large pan. Cook the tortillas over medium heat until it's been lightly browned, or for one minute on each side. Let cool, then use to wrap whatever you're eating. 

Step 4; If you want to make chips, preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, or 176 degrees Celsius. Cut tortillas into wedges. Bake until crisp, add appropriate spices.

**Other Notes;**

\- Drying things tends to be easier than you think. You can dry citrus peels and most herbs on a paper towel placed in a warm area. Sunlight is best. You can also tie them to any extra yarn or twine and string them up in a dry, warm place. Leave them to sit until they're crispy all the way through. Home-dried herbs taste great in pretty much everything, but especially in soup or bread.

\- If you're nice enough to make something for the entire Township, it's absolutely necessary to recruit others to your cause. Otherwise, it'll take literally the entire day just to make one thing, and you'll avoid the kitchen for the next five weeks. Convince people to help by bribing them with uncooked cookie dough.

\- If you're baking something with chocolate, add a little bit of coffee. 

\- Making bread, tortillas, homemade noodles, and muffins can be tricky. Make certain not to over mix. If the dough is starting to flake when you pull it apart, you need to stop and let it proof (put it back in its bowl with a cloth over it) for at least 15 minutes. Otherwise, it's going to be chewy and taste disgusting. If possible, err on the under-mixed side. 

\- Unless you have health problems, always add salt to your food. Even if it's supposed to be sweet. Salt can amplify existing flavors, and can turn your flat-tasting cookies into culinary masterpieces. 

\- Sometimes, all you have on hand is a can of chili. You can make it taste a thousand times better if you add a tiny bit more salt, some chili powder, some paprika, and whatever herbs you have on hand. I'm a fan of rosemary and dill, personally. Dipping some bread, some tortilla, or hell, a grilled cheese if you can get one turns a sad can of chili into a proper meal. 

\- Food tastes better when you make it yourself. Food tastes even better if you make it with friends and family. Sometimes, your family is the pack of runners who have indoctrinated you into their midst, the radio operator who leads you out of danger even when you're the one who caused it to happen, and a dog you pretty much smuggled into the Township. Cooking and eating with friends and family turns it from a chore into a celebration. 

\- ~~Try not to cry when you realize how loved you are.~~


	5. Lore

Five's brain doesn't work how it's supposed to.

Rather, it doesn't work how everyone _expects_ it to. 

Which is the whole problem.

It took them seventeen years to realize this. Seventeen years of passive-aggressive comments, of; "Why can't you just sit down and do your homework like a normal kid?" and; "Why can't you just figure this out, it's easy." Thirteen years of calls home, of teachers telling them that they could do better. That they had to be better. Thirteen years of constantly switching schools, trying to figure out why they just couldn't _learn._ Why they couldn't just _do better._

And then, in their senior year of high school, it all clicked. 

Their brain just... didn't work the way others did. Numbers were always a blur to them, meaningless data that all became a blur if they stared for too long. Words were only slightly better. It wasn't that they couldn't read— they loved to read and write. But nothing ever sunk in. It just hurt. It hurt and it hurt and it hurt and it just didn't make _sense._ They memorized what they could for tests, but as soon as the information wasn't necessary, it just... melted away. Gone.

They were learning everything all _wrong._

Theoretical concepts flew over their head. They just couldn't grasp it. Someone could sit down and explain something for _hours,_ answering all of Five's questions, but the information would just fade away, to be forgotten in less than a week. You could explain the most _simple_ of concepts to them, and they still would never understand. 

In their senior year of high school, Five picked up gardening as a hobby. 

They can't remember why, anymore. Maybe because they were tired of their family's inability to keep anything green alive, maybe just because they wanted to be able to nibble off of plants they grew themselves. But they just... _did_ it. Went out to a local hardware store with their meager savings and bought as many plants as they could. Most died. They went out and bought more. Less died, that time. Then they learned how to properly start from seed, how to replant clippings, how to make sure the soil had enough nutrients. And soon the sad little collection of pots and old plastic containers turned into a _real, functioning garden._

That's when Five realized. Realized what no teacher ever had, what no well-meaning adult had ever put together. Five just couldn't learn from books. It was like trying to make a fish climb a tree.

What they could do, however, was learn from practice.

That realization sparked a frenzy.

They picked up as many hobbies as they could. They learned how to weave, how to sow, how to build. They learned how to brew kombucha from scratch, and later, in college, alcohol. They learned how to fix things, how to mend shirts and pants that otherwise would've been thrown away. And sure, most of that knowledge wasn't extremely useful, back in the old world. But it was something Five had learned _themselves,_ something that wasn't forced onto them. And when the world ended, it was what got them into Mullin's when a horde of zombies were at their heels. All they had needed was a familiar face to vouch for them, to say, "I know them. They learned how to pick locks in a week because someone said they couldn't. You'll want them here."

Five's brain didn't work the way it was supposed to. But that was alright. The same thing that took away their ability to communicate gave them the only reason they were still alive today.

It gave them the ability to _learn._

The gardens here at Abel reminded them of the one they had back at home.

Within the first month of their arrival, they had tracked down the person who oversaw most of the farmland. It used to be Janine, apparently, once upon a time, but now they mostly preferred to lead. Now it was Lainey, a middle-aged woman with a missing leg and a smile that soothed all of Five's nerves. It took maybe ten minutes of awkward, clumsy hand-signing and writing messages down on their arm to convince Lainey to allow them a small plot of land to grow things on.

Now, six months later, it was finally starting to grow.

The last January storm had passed several weeks back, replaced by rainstorms. Today was one of the rare days, when the sun peeked out from behind the dark storm clouds, shedding light down on the Township. Five sat on the thawing ground, hands deep in the soft soil. They ignored the way their hands burned from cold, too lazy to get up to search around for gloves. They had come across some half-rotting onions and potatoes in the kitchen's storage, and they now sat next to them, ready to be planted. Metal cans hung from a wooden shade structure, and they could already spot the peas and strawberries they had planted recently started to grow up the twine. An old tire acted as a makeshift pot, aloe, lavender, and rosemary planted securely within. Sundial snuffled at the onions and potatoes and they shoved her way, ruffling her soft fur fondly. 

Back within their bunk, a small plastic egg carton securely held a dozen or so little seedlings. Five smiled softly as their spade hit the earth. As soon as there was no dangers of frost, it would be time to plant them. 

They couldn't wait.

"Five?" Their head whipped up. Lainey stood at the edge of their plot, a pot clutched securely under her arm. "Sam's been looking for you. Should I tell him you're over here?"

Hesitating only for a moment, Five nodded their head. They watched as Lainey nodded back, turning and disappearing down the rows of earth and plants just beginning to recover from the winter storms.

A minute later, Sam rounded the corner, a warm grin on his face. "Heya Five!" He said, and that warm-safe-bubbly-home feeling resurfaced in Five's chest, as it always did when he was near. "I've been looking for you for _ages,_ never thought I'd find you here." He glanced around, then added quietly, "It suits you."

Smiling softly, Five brushed the dirt on their palms onto their pants, then signed, "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh! No, there's nothing wrong." Sam knelt, greeting Sundial with a muttered _hi, girl._ "There's no more runs scheduled for today, so I, uh. I thought I'd come and see you. I can leave if you're busy?"

Five shook their head, quickly signing, "No, stay." For good measure, they patted the ground next to them. Without looking up, they picked their spade back up and attacked the ground with it, sensing more than seeing when Sam settled down next to them.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and _oh,_ he's much closer than Five originally thought. Idly, they wonder if he can hear their heartbeat, it's so loud.

Willing the heat in their cheeks to fade, they point at the onions and potatoes and sign, "These were going bad, so I thought I'd... I'd..." They fumbled around for the sign, unable to think with Sam so close to them. They took a deep breath, and managed to find the right one. "I thought I'd replant them. That way we'll have more next year."

Out of the corner of their eye, they can see Sam pick one up, inspecting it carefully. "So... you just plant these, right? As is?" At Five's nod, he frowned, tapping it with a fingernail. "That is _so_ weird to think about. There's just a plant in there, and we _eat_ it. What if it wants to live?"

"We eat sunflower seeds too," Five signs, "And I don't think the onions and potatoes are... intelligent? Enough to understand that we're going to eat them."

Sam laughs, and the sound makes Five feel like they're nineteen again, drunk for the first time and surrounded by people they thought had cared for them, warm and safe and cared for. They flinch slightly, and stab the ground with their spade a little harder than usual. Then Sam's hands enter their vision and they can see him scoot forward slightly, getting dirt on his black sweats. He gently placed the onion in the hole they had made, pushing dirt over it as if he were tucking it in. Then he flashed them a smile and Five felt like the world had dropped from underneath them.

It takes Five a minute to realize they're staring. They swallow thickly and grin back, digging the spade into the earth once more.

Only after another onion and a potato was safely tucked away in the earth did Sam speak again. "You know..." He says slowly, tasting each word before it leaves his mouth, "...I know not a lot of people like to talk about what happened, you know, before all this. But... if you ever need someone to talk to, to keep the memories alive? My door is always open."

The words are familiar, bringing Five back to an empty, dark city with only Sam's words to guide them home. And _oh,_ the offer is so tempting. Because Five _does_ want to tell him everything, wants to spill their life story until there's nothing left to recount. But they don't trust their faltering hands, and trust their voice even less. So instead, they stare at Sundial while they mull his words over, trying to think of some way to reply. Sundial's _also_ digging in the dirt, but her face is shoved into the hole she's making and when she lifts it to stare at Sam and Five, her entire muzzle is covered with dirt and _both_ Sam and Five are trying not to laugh.

By the time their laughter has faded, Five has finally thought of a way to reply. "My teachers didn't like me much, I don't think. Thought I was lazy, thought I could do better." They sign, and pick up the spade again, busying themselves so they wouldn't have to turn and dissect Sam's expression.

His voice is bright. "Oh! You were a college kid, too? What was your major?"

"Environmental engineering," Five spells out, watching Sam's face carefully this time, to make sure he understood. "And botany. Wanted to help the world but..." They gesture around, certain Sam would get the message.

"Is that what got you into Mullins?" He asks, and _oh,_ that question sends a dagger through their chest. Because it _wasn't._ They didn't know how to set up a solar panel properly, how to set everything up for a hydroponics garden. They didn't know how to change the world, didn't know how to even _start._ They got in through a stroke of luck, and they knew it.

"No," And if Five were speaking instead of signing, those would be the words to make them break. "I got in because... in college, I was known for being the person who picked up a lot of skills in a short amount of time. A... someone I knew happened to be stationed in Mullins at the time, and he vouched for me."

They can see Sam glancing at them out of the corner of their eye, sizing them up. They breathe a sigh of relief when he mercifully changes the subject. "What kind of skills? How to fall from the sky and show up at our door like some kind of saving angel 101? I think I missed that class, you might have to give me some pointers—"

Five shoves him playfully.

"No, but seriously! What kind of secrets does the oh-so-mysterious Runner Five have hidden away?"

Rolling their eyes, Five looks away to hide the sudden flush. "It's not like that. I just... I learn best when I figure things out for myself. And I get bored really easily. So, in college, instead of doing my homework, sometimes I'd get caught up in learning something different. That's all."

But Sam's voice is still full of wonder, despite their deflection. "Five, _everyone_ skips doing homework. It's- it's like, a _part_ of being in college. But you're telling me that instead of, I don't know, lounging around and watching Utube all day, you procrastinated learning by... learning? That's _so_ cool."

If it were any other person telling Five these words, they would have argued otherwise. Halfway through Sam's words, they had even raised their hands to argue that, no, they weren't anything exceptional, they were just _themselves,_ they were just Five, the same person who had tripped over air halfway through yesterday's run and had to lay in the road for a whole ten minutes staring blankly into the distance as Sam laughed hysterically in their ear. But the gentle reverence in his voice gave them pause. Their hands quivered for a moment, hanging in the air, before they lowered them again.

"I'm not anything special," They finally signed. "I'm just me."

"You act like that's a bad thing." 

Sam laughed at Five's shocked expression. Then he rose, brushing dirt off of his pants while all Five could do was watch. "You're probably hungry— I checked for you in the kitchen, earlier, but Chris said you hadn't been in. I'll go grab some food and then, uh, we can hang out more? If you want." At Five's nod, his smile returned. "Alright, alright, hang on, I'll be right back."

Five watched his retreating figure, the orange hoodie Sam always wore vanishing around a corner. Then they dropped their head into their hands. Sighing deeply, they suppressed a groan, pressing fingertips into their skull. Ice cold, _numb_ fingertips. Hurriedly, they shoved their hands under their armpits, hoping they wouldn't have to go to Maxine and explain that, yeah, they _may_ have gotten frostbite because they were distracted by Sam. Speaking of...

Gods, it was getting ridiculous. 

They knew _full well_ what was going on here, and it had gone way past the line of no return. (Although, technically that line had been passed months ago, when they had stumbled back into Abel, bloody and injured but alive alive _alive,_ and the only reason they had made it was his voice in their ear, guiding them home.) They weren't being oblivious, they saw Maxine's winks and knew full well what Jack and Eugene's little jokes and statements meant. They might not catch feelings very often, but they weren't naive. They knew what the whole heart-racing, face-burning, warm-safe-home feeling meant.

Sundial's cold, wet nose brushed against their face and they blindingly reached out, grasping her soft fur. They didn't _want_ to have feelings for Sam. But they also didn't... not want to have feelings for Sam. It was all very confusing. They just wanted to always exist like this, warm and safe and happy and _useful._ Or maybe they just wanted to hide somewhere and nap for the rest of eternity and let their own feelings figure each other out, like a giant coil of knots that never got smaller, only bigger. 

Five's brain might not work properly, but in this, they were certain.

They were falling in _love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i also have a runner five tumblr now! it's @five-n-dial, i've been posting some sketches and art of my five, so if you're interested, go check it out!


End file.
